


Anthology

by I_H_Blackwood



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Post-Apocalypse, Science Fiction, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 14:57:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21340105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_H_Blackwood/pseuds/I_H_Blackwood
Summary: A collection of short stories, including:Pining Through the WindowpanesThe Lost Family FoundThe Last Mistake of the S.S. PersephoneHeart and HomeThe Witch's Chains





	Anthology

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first work i have ever posted, here or otherwise. Here goes nothing.

Its been 10 years since the apocalypse. I was 11 at the time, the day my parents grabbed me and ran away from the cities, as far away from another living being as possible.  
I never really found out why.

Thats the thing about the apocalypse. There's no one left. No one around to write history or keep score, no one to tell those in the dark what really happened.  
I never found out what the apocalypse really was. Sometimes i lay awake at night, wondering.

Was it zombies? humans infecting each other, tearing each other limb from limb?

Global warming? It feels nice enough where i am, though.

Or maybe it was a bit more nuclear? Maybe the world outside the cathedral is a bit more War-Torn.  
Who knows?  
All I know is its not like people said it would be.

I don't lock my doors at night. There's nothing out there to lock them against. I have all that i need.  
I eat when im hungry, i drink when i want to. I bathe in the river, dry in the sun.  
There's no desperation, no struggle to survive.  
The apocalypse isn't what people said it'd be.  
But i miss them. 

The people, i mean.

I miss living, breathing people. Their voices, unique and complex, converting thought to connection. I miss their faces, expressive and familiar, betraying feelings and staying true to them all at once. The sound of footsteps, no two person's gaits sound the same. Breathy laughter, the glimmer of mischievous glances, the rythym of a heartbeat when a hug becomes home.  
All of that is gone.

I walk about the cathedral that is my home, trees and brush growing in and reclaiming their rightful place, snaking in through stained glass windows and mahogany floorboards.

Ive taken to the lofts. There are perches, floors my parents built along the high cielings, before they'd gone too. Its where i sleep. My books, my projects, my belongings are all up there. Right now, there is one item in particular i seek. I grab the shining Black disk from my bag.

Id found it in the rubble of an old music shop further downtown, and Instead of the necessities id set out to find, id filled my bag full of the covered black discs.  
I remember seeing them in cartoons as a kid, the disc spinning round and round while a needle scratched into the surface.

I dropped my backpack by the door, grabbing a single record with the words "see you soon" inscribed in faded gold on the pale blue cover.

Winding up the stairs, stepping along ropes and boards, i made my way to the place where a large pile of blankets and pillows lay, tucked against the largest window of the cathedral, where multicolored light filtered softly through the gilded glass.  
The light flickers against a deep green bottle of sparkling liquid nestled among the pillows. A bottle of champagne, something it'd only just occured to me was relevant a day or two ago, though it hadnt taken me long to find a bottle tucked away inside the household ruins downtown.  
I drop down onto the boards, plopping the disk onto the record player and turning it on.

=> [PLAY: Australia by The Shins]

An energetic, happy tune cranks out the record player, echoing through the tall cielings of the cathedral as i settle in to listen.

"Born to multiply  
Born to gaze into night skies  
All you want's one more Saturday  
Well look here until then  
They gonna buy your life's time  
So keep your wick in the air and your feet in the fetters  
'Till the day we come in doing cartwheels  
We all crawl out by ourselves  
And your shape on the dance floor  
Will have me thinking such filth I'll gouge my eyes"

I settle back against the wall, gazing down at the fireflies flickering lazily about the grassy floor of the cathedral. I reach out, grabbing and wrestling the bottle open and pouring the still-fizzing liquid into a cracked coffee mug.  
I stare at it, for a second, watching the bubbles die down, and the way it shines in the fading lights.

"You'll be damned to pining through the windowpanes you know  
You'd trade your life for any ordinary Joe's  
Well, do it now or grow old  
Your nightmares only need a year or two to unfold"

"Happy birthday to me," i whisper into the quieting air, bringing the mug to my lips. Its not bad. But considering i waited all this time till i was 21, its not as great as i thought it'd be. So much for a birthday present.

"Been alone since you were twenty-one  
You haven't laughed since January  
You try and make like this is so much fun  
But we know it to be quite contrary"

I scoff at that line, setting the bottle and mug aside and slumping over on my side, pulling the blankets around me.  
Ive been alone so much longer than that. 21 is only the beginning. I havent laughed in much longer.

"Dare to be one of us, girl  
Faced with the android's conundrum  
I felt like I should just cry  
But nothing happens every time I take one on the chin"

"You're Himmler in your coat you don't know how long I've been  
Watching the lantern dim starved of oxygen  
So give me your hand and let's jump out the window"

I lay there, watching the stars gleam outside my window as the last few notes of the song ring out. The only sign of humanity for all the miles on the earth. 

I close my eyes and sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading.


End file.
